


To Be Held

by Attenia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:03:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Draco and Harry run into each other at the top of the astronomy tower, both planning to jump. Somewhere along the line, their plans change. Warnings for suicide attempt, self-harm, eating disorders and panic attacks. Please don't read if you think this will trigger you.





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: One review I got for this story said that the reader found Harry to be abusive and controlling in this fic. That’s now how I intended it, but I thought I should put a warning note just in case anyone needs it.

Chapter 1

Draco  
He was trembling, but Draco knew that wouldn’t last long. He’d had enough. He was done. The trembling in his knees stopped, and he smiled faintly as he climbed onto the edge of the astronomy tower.  
“MALFOY, STOP!”  
He was so startled that he stumbled back, his ass hitting the ground. Potter was on him in an instant, muscling him away from the edge.  
“Stop it, let me go, Potter!” What was Potter even doing here? Who came to the top of the astronomy tower at three in the morning?  
“No, I’m not letting you go, you idiot. What were you thinking?”  
Potter finally got him as far from the edge as possible without starting down the stairs and pushed Draco into a sitting position with his back against the door. “Well? What was that about?”  
“Nothing,” Draco muttered angrily.  
“You call trying to leap off the astronomy tower nothing, do you?”  
“What are you doing here?” Draco demanded. To his surprise, Potter’s face went red, and he was suddenly engrossed in staring at his shoelaces. Draco could have laughed when he realized. “You too. You were coming to jump.”  
Potter didn’t deny it, which only confirmed Draco’s suspicions. It was perfect. The Chosen one and the Death Eater scum, dying together.  
“Well, how do you want to do this? Together, or would you rather be a gentleman and let me go first?”  
“Shut up, Malfoy, you’re not killing yourself.”  
“Oh yeah? And exactly how are you going to stop me?”  
Potter hadn’t seemed to have thought of this. If he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to stop Draco jumping. Draco could almost see the clogs moving in his head. The only logical option was for them both to die. Or…  
“Oh no you don’t, Potter. Don’t you dare –”  
“Come on.” Potter grabbed his arm, trying to tug him down the stairs. “I’m taking you to the hospital wing.”  
“No you are fucking not!”  
“Yes, I am!”  
“If you do, I’ll tell Pomfrey what you were really doing up here.”  
That stopped him in his tracks. “Fuck you,” Potter spat.  
“Fuck you.”  
“I’m trying to help you, you idiot!”  
“Who said I wanted your help?”  
“I don’t care if you don’t want it. I’m not letting you die.”  
Draco had never hated Gryffindors more than in this moment. If he could, he’d crucio the whole lot of them. Bloody idiots and their hero complexes. He could see it in Potter’s eyes, the Gryffindor had already made his decision. He’d live, just to save Draco from himself.  
Why would he do that? Draco knew what kind of pain Potter was in – the same kind that had driven him to seek the astronomy tower in the middle of the night. Why would he suffer that, let it continue, just to save a boy he hated? Stupid Gryffindor heroism, that’s why.  
“Fine,” Potter snarled. “But if you won’t let me take you to the hospital wing, you’re going back to your dormitory.”  
“Fine,” Draco retorted. Perhaps Potter wasn’t as creative or as desperate as he was, but Draco could think of any number of was to kill himself from within his own dorm. They would likely be more painful than a simple fall would have been, but at this point, he really didn’t care.  
Potter seemed to read his mind, because he pulled out his wand. A streak of purple light went straight into Draco’s chest. He gasped in pain and would have fallen back had he not been pressed up against the door.  
“What the hell was that for!”  
“It’ll stop you from hurting yourself, physically at least.”  
Surely, such an evil spell couldn’t exist. Draco yanked himself out of Potter’s grasp and made for the edge of the tower again. Potter didn’t stop him. It was as though he hit an invisible wall several steps away from the edge. Draco cursed and threw himself at it, but it didn’t give.  
“Take it off!” he howled at Potter.  
“No.”  
Draco lunged at him, his fist smashing into Potter’s jaw. Potter calmly captured his limbs, holding him immobile. When had the bastard gotten so muscled? True, Draco had hardly been eating properly, recently, but it still rankled that he was overpowered so easily.  
“Where did you learn that spell?” he demanded, fully intending to strangle the culprit at the first opportunity.  
“Hermione tried to cast it on me,” Harry mumbled, his fire suddenly doused. “She doesn’t know what I blocked it with a wordless shield charm, or she’d never have left me alone.”  
Draco didn’t know quite what to say to that. Panic was rising inside him. He couldn’t do this anymore. That’s why he was here. It had to end. Potter was too stubborn to let him have his way, but Draco wasn’t giving up that easily. It was Gryffindor idiocy that had gotten him into this mess, and it would be Gryffindor idiocy that got him out.  
“Not very honorable, is it?” He smiled grimly as he watched his words affect the boy.  
“What?”  
“Forcing me to do something you’re too cowardly to do yourself. So, what? I have to live, but you get to take the easy way out?”  
Apparently, Potter hadn’t thought of it that way, because he suddenly looked troubled. Draco smirked, sure he was about to have the curse taken off him.  
Then –  
“Fine.” Potter turned his own wand on himself, and the same flash of purple light hit him. He grunted in pain, but recovered quickly. “There, we both have the same charm on us. Happy, now?”  
“Not even remotely,” Draco growled under his breath.  
His work done, Potter turned and started walking away.  
“WAIT!” Draco had just remembered something, and he couldn’t let Potter leave before it was rectified.  
“What?”  
“You have to modify the spell. No, listen to me! You won’t let me kill myself, fine, we’ll argue about that another day. But I need to be able to hurt myself. Please, Potter.” Draco hated that he was begging, but he had no choice.  
Potter’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”  
Draco didn’t want to tell him, but what option did he have? He slowly rolled back his sleeves. Potter swore and lit his wand, examining the deep cuts that went down Draco’s forearms.  
“Why?” he asked softly, all anger gone from his voice.  
“It’s the only way I can cope. Please, Potter, if I can’t die, I at least need to be able to do this.”  
The stubborn set of his jaw was back. “No. I won’t have it. Look, Mal – look, Draco, you’ll need to find other ways to cope, alright? We both will.”  
“You’re telling me you also slash up your arms like a madman?”  
“Well, no, but I wasn’t planning on living past tonight.”  
“Please, you have lines of people waiting to jump to get anything you need. You’re the fucking Chosen One! I’m an outcast. Everyone hates me. Where, exactly, do you think I’m going to find other coping strategies?”  
Apparently, he’d taken Potter by surprise again. The boy had always been thick. “I, um… you can talk to me! No, seriously, come and talk to me. I guess we could both use it. I don’t want to worry my friends any more than I already have.”  
Was he being sincere, or was he just batshit crazy?  
“Why would you want to kill yourself, anyway?” Draco snapped. “Your life is perfect.”  
“I don’t know.” Potter’s legs seemed to desert him and he sank to the ground next to Draco. “Ever since the war ended, I’ve been… haunted. So many people died because of me. Sometimes, I just want the pain to end, you know?”  
Draco found himself nodding. He did know.  
“What about you?”  
“I…” Draco leapt up. “I’m going to bed.”  
Then he ran, all the way down the stairs and straight back to his the dormitory that all the eighth years shared. At least he had his own bedroom, probably because no one else was willing to share with him. The mad urge to tell Potter everything slowly faded now that he was on his own.  
He wasn’t giving up. Draco would find the counter curse to whatever spell Potter had put on him, and he’d remove it. Then, he’d have a date with the top of the astronomy tower. He had only to wait until then.  
Unfortunately, waiting was easier said than done. Draco couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried, and the urge to cut was overwhelming. Praying that Potter had been lying about the spell preventing all harm, he pulled out his blade. Just before it cut into his arm, it seemed to hit an invisible wall.  
Draco moaned and tossed it aside. No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep living, even the few hours before the library opened, he couldn’t bear it.  
He was able to transfigure his gown into a rope, but unable to slip the rope around his neck. He could summon poison from Slughorn’s private stores, but he couldn’t drink it. Draco felt like he was going mad. This was torture worse than any he could imagine. He even tried tearing at his skin with his nails, but he met the same barrier as he had with his knife.  
Giving up on sleep, Draco forced himself to take a deep breath. Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he could tell a panic attack wasn’t far away, but that would have to wait. He had some research to do.  
He was sitting outside the library by the time Madam Pince came to open it. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Anything I can help you with, Malfoy?”  
“No, thank you.” He knew he was done for if he asked for help. She would all too easily figure out what had happened, and then he’d be in the hospital wing whether he liked it or not.  
Draco skipped breakfast as he searched. He couldn’t care less about going to class. He was going to find the counter curse, and then he was going to end his agony, Potter be damned.  
It was lunch time before anyone bothered him.  
“Thought I might find you here.” Potter leaned nonchalantly against a shelf, but he had dark circles under his eyes. It was apparent that he hadn’t slept either.  
Draco didn’t deign to answer, but merely pulled down another book and started scanning the index.  
“Don’t bother,” Potter told him. “Hermione had the book with the counter curse removed from the library. McGonagall’s got it under lock and key. No way are we getting to it, even if we want to.”  
With those words, all of Draco’s hopes came crashing down on him. He was vaguely aware of his knees hitting the floor. He couldn’t stop the tears now. He wished Potter would just go away, but the idiot was still staring at him.  
“Draco…”  
Draco curled in on himself as he sobbed harshly, wishing for nothing more than his pain to end. A grating sound had him glancing up. Potter was directing the bookshelves with his wand, closing them into a makeshift version of a private room. He recognized one of the spells the Gryffindor muttered as a sound-proofing charm, which would have been comforting had Potter not been inside its radius.  
The next thing he knew, a set of arms was around him. Draco flinched away, scrambling as far as he could get within the confines of the room of book shelves. He brought his arms up in a futile attempt to shield his face, knowing already that Potter was much stronger than him.  
Potter stared at him, apparently taken aback. “What are you doing?”  
“What are you doing?” Draco retorted. He warily lowered his arms, but curled his knees up to protect his stomach, just in case.  
“I – have you never had someone hold you when you cried before? To comfort you?”  
Oh. That’s what he was doing. Draco had known, of course, that not everyone viewed displays of emotion as weakness. Not all fathers did their best to beat it out of their children, and some even did as Potter said and comforted them. He’d just never expected such a gesture to be applied to him.  
Draco didn’t know what to do with that. Why would Potter even want to comfort him? Of course, he knew the answer to that. Stupid, chivalrous Gryffindor. He turned his face away as his crying picked up again. Even Potter’s bizarre behavior couldn’t long distract him from his own pain and desperation.  
A hesitant hand settled on his shoulder. Draco cringed away automatically, and the hand disappeared.  
“Tell me how I can help.” Potter sounded almost as desperate as he felt.  
“You can take this fucking charm off me, that’s how!”  
“No. I won’t do that… but Draco, like it or not, we’re in this together. We both want the same thing, and we can’t have it for the same reason. I’m not going to worry my friends over this, which means you’re the only one I have to talk to, and I’m the only one you have to talk to. I’m not going to watch you suffer alone. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”  
The hand was back, and this time, Draco didn’t have the energy to escape it. He tensed as Potter slowly pulled him into his arms. It felt strange and wrong… and yet, somehow so right. Draco’s body took over and he found himself turning, burying his head in Potter’s robes and sobbing his heart out.  
The feeling of being held as he cried did strange things to him. As Potter’s arms tightened, Draco found himself crying even harder, clinging desperately to the source of his comfort. Potter murmured soft, consoling words, apparently unaware that Draco was utterly falling apart in his embrace.  
His breath hitched, and Draco recognized the signs of an oncoming panic attack. He welcomed it. He’d hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness, as usual, and the brief break from reality would be a relief.  
“Ssh, Draco, try to slow your breathing now.”  
He stared up at Harry, still gasping harshly.  
“Slow down, or you’re going to pass out.”  
That was what happened with panic attacks, didn’t Harry know that? Some of his confusion must have shown on his face, because Harry tilted his head to the side. “Has this happened before?”  
Unable to speak, Draco nodded.  
“Then you know you need to breathe slowly. Come, try to do it with me. In, and out. Nice and slow.”  
He didn’t understand. Why wasn’t Harry just leaving him to pass out in peace? But the stubborn Gryffindor wouldn’t leave him be. “Slow,” Harry insisted. Try now, Draco, match my breathing patterns.”  
If he wasn’t currently too full of feelings to take in anything else, Draco would have been annoyed. He tried his best to follow the instructions – maybe then he’d be left alone – focusing on Potter’s hands, which were gently rubbing his back in a steady rhythm.  
To his great surprise, Draco’s breathing returned to normal – or as close to normal as it was going to get with him crying as hard as he was.  
“I – I d-didn’t pass – o-out,” he managed to choke at Harry, trying his best to express his confusion.  
“No, I would hope not,” Harry said gently. “Have you always passed out before when this happens?”  
Draco nodded jerkily, and was shocked at the expression of sadness that crossed the Gryffindor’s face. “You should have had someone to help you. No one deserves to go through this alone.”  
“You – h-had?”  
“Not when I was younger, but ever since I came to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione have always been there for me.”  
Draco didn’t have the energy for any more conversation. He was helpless against his pain, with nothing to relieve it, no blade, no leap off the astronomy tower. Harry held him through all of it, and eventually, Draco exhausted himself. The tears stopped.  
This, too, was surprising. He’d never cried himself out like this before. Always, he’d had to forcibly shove his weakness away. He hadn’t even known that, had he let it run its course, it would ever end. Maybe without Harry here, it wouldn’t have.  
He found himself limp and more peaceful than he could ever remember being. Harry seemed quite content to hold him, and Draco couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. His last thought before he drifted off was the confused realization that somewhere along the line, the Gryffindor had stopped being Potter to him, and become Harry.  
 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry   
Harry watched Draco sleep, thinking. Draco had changed after the war. The spiteful bully he had been was gone, turned into a withdrawn, haunted young man. He’d been through so much, and most of it hadn’t been his choice. Harry was surprised by just how strongly he hoped that the Slytherin would be ok.  
He didn’t have any similar hopes for himself. He’d lied to Draco. He had intended to cast the charm on himself, he really had, but at the last moment, his courage had failed him. Some Gryffindor he was. So he’d simply cast a charm to emit a flash of purple light and pulled off a good piece of acting.   
Even now, he longed to return to the top of the astronomy tower and end this, but he couldn’t. He was forcing Draco to live, and taking away the only coping strategies he had by not letting him hurt himself. Harry’s honor wouldn’t allow him to abandon the Slytherin. He’d stay until Draco was ok, and then, he’d finally be able to answer the call of death.  
It was several hours before Hermione found them. Harry should have known that he couldn’t skip two classes without her checking on him.   
“Harry? Are you there? Why is my tracking charm leading me straight into a bookcase?”  
“I’m here, but he quiet,” he whispered, using his wand to move one of the bookshelves aside just enough to let Hermione in. She tiptoed over, raising her eyebrows at Draco, who was still asleep in Harry’s lap.  
“Is there anything you want to tell me, Harry?”  
“I’m helping him.”  
He’d expected her to question further, but Hermione seemed to understand at once. “Good. I’m glad he’s letting someone help him.”  
Not that Harry was giving him any choice, but he didn’t mention that. He wished Hermione had said something to him before, since she clearly knew that Draco was struggling.   
“It’s dinner soon; you should wake him. He doesn’t look like he can afford to miss any more meals.”  
Harry knew what she meant. He could feel Draco’s ribs sticking out sharply, and his entire stomach seemed sunken, his robes falling into the hollow.   
“And you had better put these bookshelves back exactly how they were if you value your life. If Madam Pince caught you…”  
“You’re right.” Harry shuddered to think of the librarian’s reaction. “Go save me a place, I’ll bring Draco shortly. And warn Ron, won’t you? I’m going to be spending some time with Draco, and I don’t want him to react badly.”  
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t, you have my word on that. Don’t worry, Ron and I will help you. He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, no one does.”  
“Thanks, Hermione.”  
Hermione left, and Harry reluctantly shook Draco’s shoulder. “Draco, you need to wake up now. We have to go to dinner.”  
Draco woke with a start and immediately jerked away from Harry’s touch, his eyes wide. He scrambled out of the Gryffindor’s lap and pressed his back against the bookshelf, watching him warily.   
“I won’t hurt you,” Harry repeated. “Come on, we need to go eat.”  
Draco shook his head. “Not hungry,” he mumbled.  
“You’re skin and bones. When was the last time you had a proper meal?”  
“I’m not hungry often anymore.”  
“Yes, but you still need to eat,” Harry told him patiently. Ron and Hermione had been firm on this point with him. Several times, Hermione had had to force-feed him with magic. It hadn’t been pleasant. Eventually, he’d learned to eat, whether hungry or not. Draco didn’t have friends to take care of him, though.  
Usually, the thought of dinner would have been entirely unappetizing, but Harry found himself more focused on Draco. It helped, having someone else to take care of. It took his mind off his own misery. Caring for Draco would be enough of a distraction, at least for a few weeks. Then, he could leave this world for good. Harry kept his mind on that ray of hope; it would sustain him until Draco was better.  
He reached for the Slytherin, who flinched again, but Harry wasn’t deterred. Moving slowly so as not to spook the other boy, he gently took Draco’s hand and pulled him to his feet, carefully using his wand to move the bookcases back as they left.  
Draco trailed behind him, allowing himself to be led to the Great Hall. There, Ron and Hermione gave him bright smiles. McGonagall had abolished the house tables in an effort to promote more house unity, so no one thought anything of Draco joining them.  
Harry let Hermione dish out his dinner – she decided how much he ate at each meal, and he’d learned not to argue her. He handed her a plate for Draco, unsure what portions to use. It was clear that Draco hadn’t eaten properly for some time, and probably wouldn’t be up to much.  
Hermione went easy on him, giving him a bowl of soup and two pieces of bread. “See, that’s not so bad,” Harry murmured, eyeing his own hefty piece of chicken, two potatoes and gem squash unenthusiastically.   
“I don’t want it,” Draco hissed angrily. “I said I’m not hungry.”  
Ron rolled his eyes. “Trust me, Draco, eat it. It’s better this way. Ask Harry.”  
“Really, you want to eat,” Harry urged him. Hermione was eyeing the Slytherin beadily, and he knew that should Draco refuse, things would go badly for him.  
Draco clearly didn’t know what was in store for him, and refused the soup. “Fine,” Harry mumbled. “Back in the eight year common room, Hermione?”  
“Yes, that will be best.”  
“What are you two talking about?”  
“You’ll see,” Harry muttered darkly, stuffing in a mouthful of potato. Once he’d finished eating, he took Draco’s hand firmly and pulled him back to the common room, straight into the room he shared with Ron.  
Ron and Hermione followed, Ron carrying Draco’s still full bowl and the bread.   
“What do – hey!”  
Harry snatched Draco’s wand and tossed it aside. “You are going to eat, Draco. This can be done the easy way or the hard way. I suggest you choose the easy way, but it’s your choice.”  
“How dare you, Potter! You have no right to force me to do anything.”  
Harry sighed and stood aside. Hermione stepped forward, waving her wand in complex motions. Draco abruptly collapsed, but Harry was ready to catch him, pulling him onto the bed. He sat behind the Slytherin, so that Draco’s back was against his chest. Ron pulled up a chair by the side of the bed and held out a spoon.  
Draco’s mouth hung open. He was unable to move at all, but Harry could feel his heart racing, and his breathing was speeding up.   
Harry tried to soothe him. “Just try to relax. We’ll get this done as quickly as possible. Trust me, this is for your own good.”  
Ron fed Draco the first spoon of soup with practiced motions – he’d done it enough times to Harry. Hermione watched carefully, waving her wand at the exact right moment so that Draco’s throat reacted, swallowing whether he liked it or not.   
His rapidly escalating panic attack didn’t help matters, but Hermione simply cast spells to clear his throat whenever he inhaled his soup. She used magic to turn the bread in his mouth into mush, as though he’d just chewed it, before making him swallow.   
It took less than ten minutes, and they were done.   
“I’ll stay with Hermione tonight,” Ron said, grabbing his pajamas. “Good luck.”  
“Thanks.” Harry waited for the two of them to leave before removing the charm on Draco. The Slytherin immediately leapt off the bed and lunged for his wand. Harry was ready for the stinging hex and blocked it, quickly disarming Draco.  
“I know you’re mad, but you have to eat.”  
“Fuck you, Potter! How dare you restrain me!”  
“It’s that or take you to Madam Pomfrey, who would do the same if you refused to eat. Would you prefer that?”  
“FUCK YOU!”  
“Yeah, my reaction wasn’t exactly good the first time, either. You’ll learn to eat soon enough.”  
That caught Draco off guard. “Your – your reaction?”  
Harry nodded. “I haven’t been hungry for months, not since the war ended. Ron and Hermione stepped in. They’re pretty good now. The first few times, I nearly choked while Hermione got the timing right.”  
With his wand out of reach, Draco picked up a book and threw it at Harry. Harry transformed it into a cushion and threw it back to him. “I know you’re mad. If you need to beat something up, destroy the cushion. It won’t mind. Don’t look at me like that, it helps! You should have seen the room the first time Hermione had to force feed me. Feathers everywhere, it took us weeks to find them all.”  
Draco was shaking so badly that the cushion slipped from his grip. “You can’t restrain me,” he said more quietly.  
“You’re telling me you would have let us feed you if we didn’t?”  
“No, you don’t understand. I can’t bear it. The feeling of being helpless, unable to move. Please, Harry. I –”  
Harry just caught sight of the tears before Draco turned away, heading for the door, which Harry used magic to lock. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. I know how awful it is to be fed like that. I’m here, Draco. Talk to me.”  
Draco tugged fruitlessly at the door handle a few times. All of a sudden, his knees gave out. Harry wasn’t in time to catch him before he hit the floor.   
“Leave me alone,” Draco muttered, his voice choked with tears.  
“No. You’re in pain. I won’t leave you to deal with this on your own.”  
He carried the limp Slytherin to the bed, tucking him under the covers. The bed was big enough for two, and Harry lay down next to him, though he was careful to leave a good foot of space between them. Draco still flinched at his touch, as though he expected to be struck.  
“Talk to me,” Harry urged. “It’ll help. Trust me, I know.”  
“I –” Draco gulped. “My father… he’d restrain me. When he – he –”  
“When he what?” Harry asked gently.  
“He’d hurt me. Beat me, whenever I disappointed him. Whenever I wasn’t strong enough or good enough. Mother tried to stop him, but there was nothing she could do. I could never fight back, or even try to escape. He held me helpless with magic.”  
Harry’s stomach sank. He understood now, and felt sick to think of the trauma he must have thoughtlessly brought back by restraining Draco. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know.”  
Draco looked up at him with pleading eyes. “He liked it. He’d often blindfold me and leave me for hours before starting on me. It was the fear he got off of, not just the pain.”  
Moving slowly, Harry gently put his arms around the Slytherin. “I’m so sorry, Draco. I’ll never hurt you like that. You don’t have to fear my touch.”  
“I know. It’s just – automatic.”  
Harry nodded, pulling Draco’s trembling form closer. Draco shook with sobs as he finally relaxed into Harry’s hold. The Slytherin’s hands tentatively came around Harry’s waist. Harry murmured encouragement, reminding himself that Draco had never received physical comfort.   
“Tell me what you need,” he said softly. “Help me help you.”  
Draco tried to speak several times, but he was sobbing so hard his words came out choked and mangled.   
“I don’t understand you,” Harry said softly. “Try to speak slower.”  
It soon became apparent that Draco was in no condition to speak coherently, so Harry merely held him close, giving what comfort he could offer. Draco’s arms tightened and he held onto Harry frantically, clearly terrified that his source of comfort would disappear at any moment. Harry didn’t so much as twitch, trying to give the other boy as much security as possible.  
“I won’t leave you,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you. I am here for you.”  
“I – d-don’t – bel-believe – you –” Draco wailed, his fingernails digging into Harry’s back. “N-n-no – one – ever – st-stays.” The rest of his sentence was drowned in violent sobs, so much that he was making the entire bed shake.   
“I will stay,” Harry promised, but even as he made the promise, he knew it was a lie. He would stay, yes, but not forever. “I not leave you while you need me,” he modified. “As long as I am alive, I will be here for you.”  
His heart went out to the terrified, broken boy before him. Draco shook his head, which was pressed against Harry’s chest, a low keening sound coming out of his mouth. Harry wasn’t worried; he’d soundproofed the door long ago, not wanting to wake up the rest of the dorm with his nightmares.  
“Hurts – t-t – much – can’t – d-die – please – ”  
“It will not always hurt this much,” Harry promised, repeating the words Hermione had told him many times, even though he’d never truly believed them himself. He gently started rubbing Draco’s back. At first, the Slytherin stiffened at the contact, but after several minutes, he started to relax.   
Eventually, Draco’s sobs slowed enough to allow him to talk, though silent tears still ran thick and fast down his face. “Can I… can I tell you about it? About what father did? I’ve never told anyone before.”  
“Of course you can. Tell me.”  
Draco was silent for several minutes before speaking. “I still remember the first time. I was five. I’d fallen and scraped my knee. I started crying, and he saw me before mother could whisk me away. He held me down and used a knife to remove the skin from my – my other knee. He…”  
Harry listened quietly as Draco listed one atrocity after another. Several times, he unconsciously held the other boy tighter, horrified by what he heard. When the Slytherin started describing an incident shortly after his thirteenth birthday, he was too overcome with anguish to speak more than a few words – something about water – before he broke down again, the small tremors that had been running through him turning into wild jerking movements as he wept.  
Draco suddenly pulled away, leaning over the edge of the bed and heaving. Harry rubbed his back, waiting for it to be over before vanishing the vomit and conjuring a glass of water, which Draco promptly choked on.  
“Anapneo,” Harry said calmly. Draco started drawing in harsh breaths and fell back into Harry’s arms, burying his face in the Gryffindor’s chest.  
“He won’t hurt you again,” Harry promised. “He’s in Azkaban for life. You are safe.”  
Those words didn’t seem to comfort Draco, so Harry simply stroked his hair as he shook. When Draco’s tears had quieted somewhat, Harry spoke softly in his ear. “We should sleep. Hermione won’t let us miss classes again tomorrow.”  
“I – I c-can’t sleep.”  
“I will help you. Hang on.” Harry summoned Draco’s pajamas. “Get changed, then I’ll show you what Ron does for me when I can’t sleep.”  
He made to get up, but Draco whimpered in panic and grabbed his robes, pulling him closer. “I’m just going to get changed,” Harry soothed. “I’ll stay right here if it makes you feel better. Ok? I won’t leave you.”  
“Ok,” Draco whispered.  
Feeling a little self-conscious, Harry turned his back and got changed as quickly as possible. By the time he turned around, Draco was also in his pajamas, standing shyly at the edge of the bed.  
“Come, lie down on your stomach. I’m going to lift your top, alright?”  
“Al-alright.”  
Harry did so, exposing Draco’s skeletal back. He’d have to be gentle if he didn’t want to hurt someone so bony.   
“I’m going to touch you,” he warned, and this time, Draco didn’t flinch as Harry’s hands came down on his back. He started by rubbing lightly, barely touching. When Draco relaxed a bit, Harry increased the pressure to a light massage.  
Draco moaned softly, sounding surprised. Had no one ever given him a massage before?  
“Just relax,” Harry murmured. “Tell me if I hurt you.”  
He slowly kneaded the tense muscles, easing up whenever Draco stiffened, learning the Slytherin’s body. He had the feeling he’d need to do this a lot more in the future. The thought wasn’t an unpleasant one. To his intense displeasure, Harry felt his cock rising at the sounds Draco was making.   
This is about comfort, you moron, he berated himself harshly. Since when could Draco Malfoy give him a boner? He must be losing his mind. He ignored his own body and worked the Slytherin’s back, neck and shoulders.   
When he was done, Draco’s muscles were warm and soft beneath his hands, and he was finally breathing steadily.  
“Draco?” Harry whispered. No response. Good, that meant he was asleep. Careful not to jostle his bed companion, Harry lay down. Not wanting Draco to hurt his neck, he gently turned the other boy so that he was on his side, his back once more pressed to Harry’s chest. Draco sighed contentedly in his sleep.  
Harry usually struggled for hours to fall asleep, but tonight, sleep came quickly, and when it did, it was un-haunted by nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Draco  
For the second time, Draco woke in Harry’s arms. It felt good, even if a bit foreign. He had barely stirred when Harry woke too. Their faces were inches from each other, and Harry’s lips were slightly parted.   
Draco could feel the light brush of his breath, and was suddenly seized by the mad desire to kiss the Gryffindor. He pulled away, trying to get a hold of himself. He didn’t think he could handle losing his source of comfort, now that he knew what it felt like to be held as he cried, to have someone care enough to want to soothe him.   
Trying to kiss Harry would end this at once. Even if the Gryffindor wasn’t disgusted, he’d probably still feel too uncomfortable to be around Draco any longer.   
Harry smiled at him. “How did you sleep?”  
The question surprised Draco, because he realized that he’d slept well for the first time in as long as he could remember. “I didn’t have nightmares.”  
“Me neither. Come on, you ready for breakfast?”  
Just like that, Draco’s good mood disappeared. He only realized that he was hyperventilating when the world around him started to go gray at the edges. Harry shook him hard. “Draco! Look at me, focus on me. You’re ok. Just breathe, you’re fine.”  
“Can’t – restrained – father –”  
“I won’t restrain you,” Harry promised. “I swear, I never would have allowed it had I known. You still have to eat, but we’ll find another way to get the food down.”  
Draco knew he should be calmed by this, but his body wasn’t listening to logic and he was rapidly becoming dizzy, unable to control his breathing.   
The next thing he knew, he was being pulled tightly into Harry’s arms, crushing against the Gryffindor’s chest.   
“Slow,” Harry coaxed. “Breathe slow. I’m here. You’re ok.”  
Against all expectations, Draco did find his breath slowing. Despite the fact that Harry had been able to diffuse his panic the other day, he was surprised. He didn’t think such a feat could be repeated twice. Maybe the first time hadn’t been a fluke, after all.   
“What do you need?” Harry murmured.  
He needed to be held and soothed with gentle words of comfort. Draco hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed this until, for the first time in his life, it had been given to him. He was rapidly coming to rely on it, which he knew was dangerous. You couldn’t rely on other people.   
“Draco?”  
He shook his head. He wasn’t going to act even more clingy than he already was. Besides, he’d have to shake Harry off if he was to have any chance at achieving his plans.   
“I’m fine,” he lied, reluctantly pulling away. “Let’s go eat.”  
Ron and Hermione were waiting for them, and this time, Draco meekly accepted the plate Hermione handed him. He didn’t know how Harry planned to make him eat if he refused, but he was sure he didn’t want to find out.   
Perhaps they’d pity him when his already-protesting stomach gobbed the food back up. Draco internally debated which one of them to throw up on as he crunched mutinously on a slice of toast.  
“Oh, Draco, I made this for you last night.” Hermione handed him what looked like a green button on a chain.   
“Uh, thanks, I guess.” He wasn’t really into jewelry, but he didn’t want to offend her.   
“It’s functional. We all have them.” Hermione reached under her robes and pulled out a red button on a similar chain. Harry and Ron did the same – Harry’s was gold and Ron’s was orange.  
“If you need me, press the button,” Harry explained. “My necklace will alert me.”  
“And those two?” Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to be linked to Ron and Hermione in this way, at least not yet. They had been nice so far, but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with them.  
“Don’t worry about those, they’re for me, to call Ron or Hermione if I need. We’ve been using the system for about a year now. Trust me, it works well.”  
Draco was sure it did, but he had no intention of ever using the button. He didn’t say this, but simply thanked Hermione and obediently put on the necklace.   
Their first class was potions, after which Draco had a free period. More importantly, he had a free period when Harry didn’t, which was exactly what he needed. He believed Harry about the counter curse being beyond his reach, but that didn’t mean it was his only option.  
He was quiet during the walk down to the dungeons, pondering different ideas. He barely paid attention to the class, skimming through his potions textbook, wondering if there was something here that could help him.  
There.  
Draco hurriedly flipped the page before Harry – who was sitting next to him – could see what he was reading. He carefully angled the book so that he could just see the paragraph in question.  
Curse removal potion. Will remove most curses and charms without need for the counter spell. See also: curse protection potion.  
Draco’s hopes soared, but they quickly died as he scanned down the recipe. This looked seriously complicated and would take at least a month to brew. He didn’t have a month. He didn’t think he could bear living another day, let alone a month.   
Harry had managed to ease some of his distress earlier, but Draco didn’t fool himself. A few moments of comfort did little to change his mind. As he stared unseeingly at Slughorn, he had an idea. Surely, the potions master would keep some useful potions in stock, especially ones that took a long time to brew?  
Slughorn wasn’t as paranoid as Snape had been; Draco doubted he’d put the same security measures on his private office. He raised his hand and asked to use the bathroom, a request that was quickly granted.   
“You ok?” Harry looked on the verge of following him.  
“I’m fine. I’ll just be a minute.” Draco prayed that Harry wouldn’t follow, and his prayers were answered. After all, Harry knew he couldn’t hurt himself. Draco tried to restrain himself to a quick walk when all his feet wanted to do was run. As he expected, Slughorn’s office was open. He wouldn’t need to wait for his free period after all; he could end this now.  
He sped inside and quickly found a cabinet of premade potions. Unfortunately, it was locked, and Alohomora didn’t do a thing. Draco didn’t care about getting into trouble later. He conjured a pry-bar and quickly splintered the cupboard door.   
A quick search through bottles revealed more than he could have hoped for. Both the potion to remove curses and the one to protect him from curses were there. Draco quickly read the instructions. The first potion would cure him of any lingering curses or charms, and if he took the second right afterward, it would immunize him against the most recent thing that was removed.  
He’d have to take it once a week to keep the immunization up, but a simple refilling charm would take care of that, as long as he kept the bottles. Draco gulped down the two potions, and transfigured a nearby quill into a sharp blade. He had to test it.  
This time, when he brought the knife down to his arm, there was no invisible barrier. Blood welled from the deep cut, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Reveling in the high, Draco cut again, and again. Oh, how he’d missed this. How he’d needed it.  
He knew that he had to stop, that he was going too fast and too deep. The only thing that slowed his hand was the thought of passing out before he got to the top of the astronomy tower. If he passed out here, someone would likely find him before he died and bring him back, which he couldn’t have. He had to jump if he wanted to be sure… and he did want to be sure.  
Draco pulled down his sleeve and started staggering to the tower. It took him longer than he would have liked. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, his sleeve was bloody and dripping, and he was more than a little lightheaded. It didn’t matter, though. He was here.  
He paused, his hand on the door. For some reason, he had the strange urge to press the button around his neck, to call Harry. Harry would hold him and murmur comforting words in his ear… but the call of death was stronger.  
Draco burst through the door and hurried toward the edge of the tower.  
He was stopped short by the sight before him. Harry was leaning against the tower’s edge, his arms folded, frowning directly at him.  
Draco gulped. “What are you doing here?”  
“Once Slughorn felt his intruder alert charms go off, I went with him to investigate. When he told me what potions you took, I knew you’d come here, though Ron and Hermione are searching the bathrooms just in case.”  
“H-how did you get here before me?”   
“I apparated.”  
Draco gaped at him. “You can’t, not in the Hogwarts grounds.”  
“Dumbledore taught me how to suspend the anti-apparition wards in emergencies.” Harry’s face flickered in concern as he took in Draco’s arm. “You’re bleeding.”  
Draco backed away as Harry started toward him, and the Gryffindor slowed. “I won’t hurt you.”  
“Yes, you will,” Draco said bitterly. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me live. Do you not realize that life hurts more than anything else you could possible do to me?”  
Harry’s face softened, but Draco didn’t hear his reply. The world was tilting alarmingly, and there was a rushing in his ears. Draco was vaguely aware of a set of strong arms catching him before he passed out.  
He woke up in Harry’s bed. Someone – Hermione? – was tipping a potion down his throat. Draco coughed and swallowed.  
“That should replace the blood he’s lost, and I’ve already taken care of the cuts. The rest, I’ll leave up to you.”  
“Thanks, Hermione. Do you have any other charms that will stop him from hurting himself?”  
“No, I’m sorry. I’ll do some research into it, though. Next time, we need to remember to summon the map, we could have gotten to him much quicker.”  
“Agreed. I still can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I guess I just panicked…”  
“It’s understandable, Harry.”  
Draco blinked, trying to clear his vision as the sound of shuffling feet preceded the gentle click of a door closing. Harry’s face came into focus above him. Draco groaned and closed his eyes. “What have you done?”  
“I’ve just saved your life, that’s what.”  
“Well I hope you’re not expecting a thank you!” he spat angrily.  
Harry rubbed a hand over his face; he looked at his wit’s end. “No, I guess not. Do you want to talk about it?”  
“What’s the point? It’s game over and you know it. I’m immune to your stupid curse, and there aren’t any others. You can’t possibly watch me every minute of every day.”  
“Oh yes I can. Ron is talking to McGonagall about it right now, getting us on the same class schedule.”  
Fuck, he was insane.   
Harry’s tone turned gentle. “Talk to me.”  
Draco was trying to hold onto his anger, but he felt his lip quivering and his indignation faltering. No, he wasn’t going to cry on Harry again, no matter how much he wanted to be held.   
It seemed his body had other ideas, because the traitorous tears started falling without his permission. Harry was there instantly, climbing into bed behind Draco and holding him tightly. He could feel the Gryffindor’s heartbeat through his back, which was once more pressed up against Harry’s chest.  
Draco gave up trying to stop himself, and let the body-wrenching sobs take over. How could Harry do this? How could one person make him feel so safe, simply by holding him? In Harry’s arms, Draco almost felt like things might be alright after all. It was when he wasn’t in Harry’s arms that things started going wrong.  
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Harry murmured in his ear.  
Draco just shook his head. He didn’t know how to express it even to himself, let alone to someone else. Harry was patient, stroking his hair, letting him take his time.  
Eventually, Draco spoke. “I’m – I’m n-not worth – it.” He felt his body curling in on itself as the truth of the words hit him like a sledgehammer. Harry was wasting his time on someone who didn’t deserve his help or comfort. Who was he, Draco, to think he deserved to be saved, and by Harry Potter no less?  
“I disagree,” Harry replied calmly. “You are worth it.” His body curled with Draco’s, never leaving the tight embrace he had the Slytherin in.   
At these words, Draco lost all restraint and turned around, burying his face in the Gryffindor’s chest, sobbing wildly into his robes.   
“Shh, it’s alright.” Harry started rubbing his back. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be ok.”  
“I d-don’t – want – to b-be – ok –” Draco gasped between sobs. “I – w-want – to die.” His stupid breathing was going wrong again, and by now he knew that Harry wasn’t going to simply let him pass out, which meant there was no relief from his agony in sight.  
“Breathe slow,” Harry reminded him, clasping Draco closer. Draco’s arms clenched desperately around his waist as panic overwhelmed his senses. Draco couldn’t breathe slowly, and the room was rapidly spinning. Passing out had always been a relief before, but this time, he found he wanted the gut-wrenching terror to end, not to follow him into unconsciousness.  
“Help,” he whispered. It was all he could do to get the word out. Draco had never asked anyone for help before, and he tensed automatically still half-expecting to be struck for his weakness.   
Harry didn’t strike him, but kept stroking his back while reaching over to the drawer for something.   
“I will help you.” He stroked Draco’s hair back. “You just have to let me. Here, breathe into this.”  
Draco found a paper bag pressed around his mouth. It expanded and deflated with a harsh crunching noise as he gasped in and out.   
“Slow,” Harry reminded him. “Here, hold it like this.” He positioned Draco’s hands on the bag so that he could continue rubbing the Slytherin’s back. Surprisingly, the paper bag did help, along with Harry’s gentle touch and constant reassurances. The panic ebbed, and Draco fell back into relieved tears.   
He closed his eyes, wishing that he could pause this moment forever, and just be held. He would be happy to remain here, if he could, in a perfect fragment of time.   
By the time he had cried himself out, both Harry’s robes and the sheet were soaked with tears, but Harry took care of that quickly, drying them with a charm. Draco smiled softly as he lay there. Harry showed no sign of letting go, which worked for him.  
“I… I still want to die,” Draco admitted hesitantly.   
“I know, but I’m not going to let that happen. Don’t worry, I will help you, Draco. You will get better, I promise you.”  
“It’s fine here, now, but when you’re not holding me… things get… I don’t know. Not good.”  
“Then you’ll just have to learn to talk to me. Whenever you’re feeling shaky, tell me. Whenever you need to be held, I will be here for you. You have only to ask. Things will get better, Draco.”  
Lying here in Harry’s arms, Draco found himself actually believing it. He felt exhaustion taking him, and clenched his arms tighter around Harry. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled, burying his face in the Gryffindor’s robes once more. It was easier when he hid his face, to confess his weakness.   
“I’m not going anywhere. Rest, I will be here when you wake.”  
Once again, Draco believed him.   
 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Draco  
Draco had been right. Harry did indeed keep his word; he hadn’t moved in however many hours Draco had slept. He woke softly. Their faces were once more close together, and the mad urge to kiss the other boy again accosted him.  
Still half-asleep, Draco didn’t heed the part of his mind that was screaming at him that this was a bad, bad idea. He simply acted on his desire and gently pressed his lips to Harry’s. Harry had been staring off into space, and he made a small noise of surprise under Draco’s mouth.  
Reality abruptly came crashing in. Draco pulled away, horrified. He was about to start apologizing profusely and beg Harry not to stop holding him, but he couldn’t get the words out because Harry kissed him this time. It started off gentle, but heat was pooling inside Draco’s belly and he couldn’t help the little groan that left him.   
Harry’s tongue prodded against his lips, and Draco opened his mouth eagerly, accepting the Gryffindor’s slick tongue. They both moaned at the feeling. Harry’s hands on his back pulled him even closer, and Draco found himself throwing a leg over the other boy’s hips, bringing them even closer.   
When they pulled away, they were both breathing hard. Draco stared into the other boy’s eyes. Harry stared just as intently back.   
“Are you sure?” the Gryffindor asked quietly.  
Draco didn’t even know what specifically Harry was asking about, but he knew what his answer was. “I’m sure.”  
They started kissing again, and Draco lost himself in the sensations. His cock was rapidly becoming a problem, but he could feel that Harry had the same problem.   
“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Harry broke the kiss only long enough to get the words out before attacking Draco’s mouth with a ferocity that made him gasp.   
Harry’s hand was suddenly in his pants, pulling Draco’s cock free. The Gryffindor’s fingers were warm and firm, and Draco bucked wildly into the touch, moaning into the boy’s mouth. A moment later, Harry’s cock was free too, and he was stroking them both together with one hand.  
The friction was delicious, and Draco knew he wouldn’t last long like this. He gripped Harry’s ass, sliding his hands under the pajama pants that were already half off. That was too much for Harry, who spilled with a loud cry, his hips crashing into Draco’s. The sticky wetness of Harry’s come drove Draco over the edge and he came too, shouting out even louder than Harry had as stars danced before his eyes.  
The door burst open. “Harry! Draco! What’s wrong?” Ron and Hermione ran in, rushing over to the bed. Draco yelped and pulled the covers right up to their chins, even though they were both almost fully clothed.  
Harry’s friends stared down at their flushed, sweaty faces and swollen lips.  
“Oh.” Ron’s face went red. “Oh.”  
“Sorry,” Hermione said breathlessly, grabbing Ron’s arm and physically dragging him from the room. “We’ll see you at breakfast!”  
The door slammed shut and Draco closed his eyes.   
“I’m never going to live that down,” Harry groaned.   
Against all odds, Draco started laughing. Soon, Harry was caught in it too, and for a long time, they lay there chuckling, until Harry suggested that they shower. They did so together, a thoroughly enjoyable experience, as far as Draco was concerned.   
“You slept almost a full day.” Harry pulled his robes over his head. “Hermione has been freaking out about all the meals you missed. She’ll make you have a big breakfast, you watch.”  
Draco was strangely unbothered by this. He went down to the Great Hall hand in hand with Harry, feeling better than he had in years.  
Of course, it couldn’t last. Despite the fact that Harry never let go of his hand, his mood rapidly started tanking after first period. Now that Draco could cut again, it was all he could think of, but he knew he’d never get away from Harry, who even insisted on accompanying him to the bathroom, taking Draco’s wand before allowing him into the stall.   
“Talk to me,” Harry murmured in charms. “I can see something’s wrong.”  
“Just not feeling good,” Draco mumbled. “What’s new?”  
“Do you need to leave? I can get Flitwick to let us off, if you need.”  
Draco hesitated. His grades were suffering as it was; he couldn’t afford to miss another class, but it wasn’t like he could concentrate in his current state anyway. Slowly, he nodded.   
Harry got up at once and spent a few minutes in hushed conversation with Professor Flitwick before coming back and leading Draco away by the hand. They got a few curious looks, but no one followed. They went back to Harry’s room, and Harry urged Draco to lie down, immediately getting to bed and holding him.  
Draco sighed, relaxing into the Gryffindor’s arms. He already felt better, but the urge to cut was still there. “I can’t keep missing classes like this.” He turned to face Harry, but didn’t pull out of their embrace. “I’m going to fail my NEWTs.”  
“Don’t worry, Hermione will tutor you. The most important thing is getting you well.” Harry pressed a soft kiss to Draco’s lips. “Now, tell me what you’re thinking.”  
Draco did. “I want to cut. I need the blood, the pain. Sometimes, I feel like it’s the only thing worth living for. All it takes is going just a bit too deep, and then it would all be over… and that’s a big part of the appeal. Then I think of what my father did to me, and wonder if I deserved it. Maybe I just want to be hurt, and he was only doing me a favor. Either that, or he broke me beyond repair.”  
Draco continued talking, saying whatever came to mind. It wasn’t long before he was crying again and clinging to Harry. The Gryffindor gently stroked his back and played with his hair. Draco was learning not to cringe away from his touch, undoing a lifetime’s training.   
Harry held him and talked him through the inevitable panic attack. When Draco was calmer, they talked of happier things, getting to know each other better.   
It surprised him when, several hours later, Draco was feeling ok enough to go back to classes. The whole time, Harry never let go of his hand. 

Days passed and turned into weeks. It was hard. Several times, Harry caught him trying to cut or sneak away to do something worse. As time passed, though, there were more good days than bad. Harry was always there to hold him when Draco needed it.  
They spent nights together, enjoying each other’s bodies. They hadn’t gone much beyond kissing and jerking each other off, but Draco was in no rush. They had all the time in the world.   
He became closer to Ron and Hermione, too. Ron was surprisingly funny, and Hermione was an excellent tutor, quickly helping him catch up on the work he’d missed. For the first time in many, many years, Draco started to think that, perhaps, he might be ok after all. 

Harry  
He’d done everything he needed to do. Draco had been stable for a week now. Harry didn’t kid himself that his passing wouldn’t affect the Slytherin, but he had Ron and Hermione to help him now. Harry had suffered long enough. He’d done enough. It was time to finally give in. It was time for him to go.  
He stepped up to the edge of the astronomy tower. It was a long drop, but it would be over in seconds. All of his pain would be over.  
So would the happiness. He’d never have dreamed it, but in the past few weeks, there had been times of happiness as well as times of despair. Draco had a lot to do with that. No, that was a lie; Draco had everything to do with that.  
Still, it didn’t outweigh his burning, desperate desire to end this. Harry lifted a foot, ready to step over the edge.   
He put his foot down again. As much as he longed to jump, another, growing part of him was itching to press the button around his neck, to call for Ron and Hermione. For help.  
That was just crazy. They’d realize he was no longer cursed and then he’d never get another chance. They were probably already getting suspicious. They were with Draco, but Harry didn’t generally leave the Slytherin’s presence for long.   
His feet were tingling with the urge to jump, and his fingers with the urge to press the button. Harry clasped the charm, his thumb caressing the curved surface.  
It would be insane to do it. He wanted to die. It would ruin his plans.  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed his thumb down.  
He didn’t know how long he waited for, swaying slightly on the spot. The door to the astronomy tower burst open.   
“Harry!”  
“Mate, get down from there!”  
“Quiet, Ron, stay here. Harry?” Hermione’s voice was soft and careful, and Harry could hear her slowly walking toward him. “Harry, talk to me.”  
Harry’s voice didn’t seem to be working. He didn’t know what he wanted.   
A hand slipped into his. “Step down,” Hermione whispered. “Come on, Harry.”  
Harry stumbled as he got down, but Hermione was ready to steady him. She put an arm around him and led him as far away from the edge as possible. They had almost reached the door when his legs gave out. Ron rushed forward to catch him.   
Harry finally found the words to speak. “Draco. I want Draco.”  
“I’ll go get him. Ron, can you get Harry to the common room?”  
“Sure, you just find Draco. He’s still in the library, right?”  
“I hope so. Here, pass me the map, just in case he’s moved.”  
Harry was having trouble concentrating on the conversation. Ron pulled one of Harry’s arms around his shoulder and helped him walk down the stairs.   
“How did you know? That I could jump?”  
“When you used the distress call, and we saw where you were, we figured you’d found some way around the charm.”  
Harry nodded blankly. He still didn’t know if he’d done the right thing. He could be dead now, if he had just jumped.  
He and Ron had barely made it to the room he now shared with Draco when Draco came pelting in, Hermione on his heels.  
The Slytherin slammed into him, shoving Harry hard.   
“How could you, Harry!” he yelled.   
Ron quickly stepped between them. “Take a breath, Draco. Harry needs your support now, not your anger.”  
To Harry’s great surprise, Draco took the advice, taking several deep breaths before nodding to Ron. “You’re right. I’m fine, now. Please, leave me alone with him.”  
Ron and Hermione left, and Draco hesitantly approached him. “Harry?”  
This time, it was Harry who started crying, and Draco who held him as he sobbed.   
“I’m – I’m s-sorry,” Harry gasped. “I just – I –”  
He didn’t have the breath to speak. Draco hushed him and stroked his back, just has Harry had done for him countless times. “Shh, it’s ok. You don’t need to talk. Just let it out.”  
Harry found himself gasping for air, but Draco was already holding the paper bag around his mouth, murmuring comforting words and pressing soft kisses to the top of Harry’s head. When Harry finally calmed, he wrapped his arms and legs around Draco, holding on for all he was worth.   
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, not trying to stop the tears.   
“Tell me what happened. I thought you were ok.”  
“I – I was never ok. That night, when we met on top of the astronomy tower, I vowed I would help you, that once you were fine, I could go. I was able to focus on you, to ignore my own pain… but only for a time. I never cast that charm on myself. I was always going to leave.”  
“But you didn’t. You called for help.”  
“I’m still not sure why.”  
“Maybe because part of you knew that even if I can survive without you, I wouldn’t want to. I love you, Harry.”  
The words pierced his heart. “I – I love you too, Draco. I just wish I could get better like you have.”  
“Idiot,” Draco said softly. “You think I ever believed I could get better? I did because I talked to you. I showed you my pain, and let you heal it. You never did that, but you are going to, starting from now. If I can get better, you can too.”  
“I can’t,” Harry cried.   
“You can,” Draco said steadily, repeating Harry’s own words back to him. “I will help you. I will get Hermione to add me to your button, so that you can call me from anywhere. We’ll do this together. You at least have to try. After all, I did.”  
It just seemed too hard, but Draco was right; he had tried, surely Harry could do no less.   
“It hurts.”  
“It still hurts me too,” the Slytherin admitted. “I’m doing better, but I’m by no means cured. I don’t have all the answers, Harry, but I think, together, we can find them. If you’ll try with me.”  
Harry nodded, burrowing his head under Draco’s shoulder, needing to hide from the world for a while. “I can try.”  
“You don’t have to be the strong one all the time, you know. We can support each other. And when we both need help, Ron and Hermione are here for us. We can do this, Harry. You were my hope; now, I will be yours. We can do it.”

Epilogue: Five years later  
Harry   
“Come on, Harry, you look fine!” Ron tapped his foot impatiently. “The music is starting, you’re going to be late.”  
Harry gave his dress robes one more critical look in the mirror before acceding to his best friend’s wishes. Ron walked beside him. Harry grinned self-consciously at the guests. A number of his Defense Against the Dark Arts students from Hogwarts were here, as were some of the St Mungo’s patients Draco had healed.   
When he looked ahead, though, his eyes were only for the man at the altar. Draco was wearing robes of emerald green, and his face was alight with the same fierce joy Harry felt. He could just see Draco’s distress button under the robes. Though neither of them had needed the buttons in years, they still always wore them as a reminder of how far they’d come.  
There had been times when Harry was sure he wouldn’t make it. At other times, he’d been sure Draco wouldn’t make it. Against all odds, they had.   
The ceremony went by in a blur. All Harry could focus on was the man before him. When the officiate finally pronounced them married, they shared a kiss that was sweet and soft and spoke of all they had endured together.   
They were supposed to go for photos directly after the ceremony, but Harry knew Draco well enough that he could tell his boyfriend – husband, now – wanted to he held.   
He pulled them onto the dance floor, ignoring the frantic signals of the photographer. They could do that later.   
Draco melted into his arms as they opened the dancing. “I love you,” he murmured.   
“I love you. I’m so glad we found each other that night.”  
That night had been awful in so many ways, but it had brought them together. Though the following years had been grueling, Harry didn’t regret a thing. He and Draco held each other as they danced, barely noticing as the music changed.   
After the war, Harry and Draco had both been haunted, unsure of where to go next. In each other, they had found their purpose and joy. Harry stared into his husband’s eyes, knowing that he had finally found his place in the world. He didn’t speak, but he could tell from the look of love in Draco’s eyes that he felt the same.


End file.
